Poets of the Lake


Unspoken

by Lou Wilson

While I slept fog sneaked into my valley
Pushing its misty white through dark hollows
Hiding the tiny green leaves of springtime
And closing the view of budding violets
I watch as the rising sun touches the ridges
And blesses the tips of the tallest trees
Then warming rays squeeze the mist dry
And ever so gently open the purple petals
I see the sunlight on your face
I feel your hand caress my cheek
And happiness tickles my toes!


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